


A Slave To You

by princessofthedeadsheep



Series: Within The Hands of Fate [5]
Category: Code Lyoko, Code Lyoko Evolution
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Imprinting, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bigotry & Prejudice, Class Differences, Class Issues, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Implied Consent, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Imprinting, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Nonverbal Communication, Slave Trade, Slaves, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-04-08 01:43:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4285845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofthedeadsheep/pseuds/princessofthedeadsheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a very different world, one where the past choices led to the dominoes falling very differently... Yumi Ishiyama, Odd Della Robbia, Elizabeth Delmas, and Jeremy Belpois all discover the hard way that ignorance can only take you so far in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blindsided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a VERY different world than the canon one, for various reasons. One being that I didn't want to write what was essentially the same AU a thousand times, which was what it felt like this series was turning into. So I dreamed up this AU and have been trying desperately to figure out how to work it out (harder than you might think) and have finally come out with a workable plot.  
> This idea of slavery is based on the more universal slavery- losers of the war, rather than based off of skin color. Though ethnicity has some impact on status, it is not nearly as pronounced in this society.  
> Also, slavery is bad, and I'm not sitting here saying "oh don't worry, it never happens" because that just isn't true- there are slaves right now, whether you want to believe it or not. This looks at a certain type of slave system, and I don't support it or any other slavery. I didn't think it really needed to be said but in case anyone is concerned.

Yumi remembered the night before her fifteenth birthday, her excitement since everyone knew that if you’d already found your soulmate, you’d feel the imprint once you were fifteen. No one really understood how or why it worked, only that it did. It was a bittersweet memory, which emphasized everything that had changed in such a short time in her life.

Her mother had taken her aside before she went to bed that night, speaking to her in the private parlor so that neither Yumi’s father nor brother would interrupt. “You’re turning fifteen tonight Yumi, and I know you’re looking forward to finding out if you’ve met your imprinted soulmate.” She paused to see if Yumi would speak, but Yumi knew better than to try and interrupt her mother when she was getting going. “There’s nothing wrong with never finding your imprinted mate. Your father and I aren’t imprinted and we are both very happy together, despite the occasional disagreement.

“I want you to remember, even if you do wake up with one, it may not be how you imagine it. Imprinting is a tricky business. It doesn’t always end the way you want it to. You may not be able to be with the person you’ve imprinted with. You may not _want_  to be with the person you're imprinted with. Imprints are... they aren't any sort of a science, Yumi. Who knows what the Gods are thinking when they do such things. Imprints are the stuff of fairy tales for a reason. Real life isn't like a fairy tale. I know you and the other children dream about what it will be like to be imprinted, what you will do and how you will react and how you'll live happily ever after. Real life simply doesn't work like that." Her mother grabbed her hand, holding it within both of hers, and Yumi looked into her mother's eyes. Yumi didn't quite understand what she saw there, what her mother saw in her. It was hard to explain, really, and Yumi was, at the time, to inexperienced to recognize such emotions. Later, she would imagine it being a cocktail of disappointment and worry and that knowledge of the impending loss of innocence. 

"You make your own happy ending Yumi, if you choose to. Your father and I, we made our way, and we did it without being imprinted. It isn't impossible or unreasonable and it's actually very usual. I don't want you to forget that. We will be happy for and proud of you tomorrow, regardless. In fact..." her mother sighed, turned her head away from Yumi as she watched on, confused as to why her mother was acting this way. Her mother was usually so much more optimistic. "Yumi, it's best if you make no mention or implication of whether or not you've imprinted. I know," she continued upon seeing her daughters expression, "that you would likely want to share, but unless you find, are able and willing to marry your imprinted mate, than it's best if you keep that information to yourself. You'll notice that most people over fifteen make no mention of it. As you grow older, you'll come to understand. I want your word Yumi, that whatever happens when you wake up tomorrow, you will tread carefully, and with all the poise of the lady we are raising you to be."

If Yumi was honest, at that moment, she hadn't understood anything that was going on. Her mother was being unlike herself, and Yumi didn't quite understand what was happening. After all, Yumi, even at (nearly) fifteen had led a very, very sheltered life. She was a privileged heiress, destined to inherit the both the wealth and acquisitions her parents and grandparents had built up before her. She knew only the life of a noble child, brought up under tutelage instead of in public schools, her needs continually met and the people around her desperate to please. She was intelligent, but still held much of a child's black and white mentality. She didn't yet have the experience to understand fully. Still, Yumi was forever loyal to her family. "Of course mother, I promise." she said. Her mother hugged her and sent her up to bathe and sleep.

It took ages for Yumi to sleep, she was so excited. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be awake or asleep- it happened at precisely fifteen years, and she'd been born very early in the day- but in her nervousness she worked herself up so much she ended up exhausting herself to sleep and missing it. She’d woken up with an innate knowledge of someone else’s presence in her own mind, their contentment keeping her lulled in sleep. After a little while amusement trickled through, and she found herself wondering over what her soulmate was seeing or doing. She allowed herself to be woken up, was helped into her clothes for the day and had her hair and makeup done hastily stamping down on her excitement because of her mother's talk the night before. Despite this, she ended up ignoring half the implications her mother had been trying to get through to her and was thinking of who could possibly fit the criteria. After all, an imprint was only so strong when you spent a lot of time around your soulmate. Which meant, much to Yumi’s excitement, that she had spent a lot of time with her soulmate already. At least she wouldn’t have to track down someone she’d only met once and hope to find them again.

She thought of the other noble children she had played with since childhood, the people she spent the most time with. She thought of the noble boys she’d been around, with their dashing smiles and charms (which were not always sincere), their politeness or rudeness and which ones she had recently been spending time with. She spared a brief thought for the other noble women, but didn’t consider them for too long as she simply didn’t think her soulmate was a woman. She knew that some people ended up bound to the same sex, but she didn’t think she would be.

She arrived at breakfast dressed in finer clothes than usual, a dress of dark purple accented by black design with matching black beads woven into her hair, exuding happiness. Her parents looked up from their breakfast to smile at her and wish her a happy birthday as Hiroki grunted something along the same lines. She sat down to her favorite breakfast, natto with a fried egg and rice and chatted with her parents about her birthday party, which was going to be thrown in their ballroom that evening.

“I think it would be best if we were to have all the slaves working on the ballroom. We can get along without them well enough until the dinner party, and when you’re hungry, you can head to the kitchens.” Her mother said.

“All the slaves?” Hiroki asked, casting a look at his personal slave who kneeled perfectly and emotionlessly at his side.

“Yes Hiroki, personal slaves as well.” Their father looked at him sternly from the newspaper. “You’ll have little need of her for the day. You’ll be with us as we arrange things for your sister’s birthday party.”

“Man, I hope you guys put as much effort into my fifteenth birthday party as you are into hers.” He griped, though he gestured for his slave to leave just as Yumi did. Their parents had evidently already sent their slaves away.

“Of course we will,” their mother said, ignoring her son’s tone for the moment. “You know it’s important to show that you and your sister are growing well into society... If we wish for your sister to receive intentions when she’s of age, we need to show she is becoming a woman worth marrying beyond just her money.”

“Though she does herself credit already,” their father raised an eyebrow at their mother, “it is more a formality than anything, you know that Akiko.” Her response was a glare so icy Yumi was half surprised she didn’t freeze the air between them.

“It’s tradition,” Yumi interrupted the edgy silence hoping to stave off a fight, “and certainly one we enjoy indulging in,” this appeared to settle her parents.

“That’s quite true,” her mother smiled at her. “We will have to spend most of the day getting ready. Hopefully, you won’t be exhausted before the party.” She and her mother than began to talk through their plans for the decorations.

CLCLCLCLCLCLCLCLCLCLCLCLCL

The party was in full swing, and Yumi could only have been happier if she had figured out who the hell her soulmate was. They were responding to her, whether they knew it or not, and it was irritating because she got feelings of affection that she just knew were for her, but she couldn't quite figure out who was feeling that affection. They weren't always near her, and she could feel the emotions fluctuate throughout the night. She supposed she should be glad that her soulmate was having a good time, at least. 

"You look quite distracted Yumi! Eyeing up some of the soon to be eligible men?" Yumi started as Elizabeth brought her out of her musings. 

"Ah, but of course! What other reason has any maiden to be distracted at her own party?" Yumi responded with a straight face. She and Elizabeth stared at each other for a moment, before both of them started laughing.

"But seriously," Elizabeth said after she got control of herself, "You've been sort of distracted the whole time. Something bothering you?" While Yumi wanted to respond honestly, she knew from her mother's speech she was expected to use caution, and definitely expected not to speak of things such as imprinting openly. 

"Nothing serious. I'm truly admiring the lovely young men, and truly envying some of these dresses. Have you seen Tamiya's dress?" 

"I have! It must have kept a seamstress up all night, since I know she wore that same dress just two days ago, but the style is completely different." Elizabeth, ever the fashionista and gossiper, replied eagerly.

"Is that so?" Yumi asked, surprised. While she wasn't as into fashion as Elizabeth and Odd, she could certainly appreciate the effort that was put into some of the creations she and the other nobles wore. She studied the dark skinned girl's dress, a truly beautiful dress of light blue set to shimmering and surrounded by floating mesh of the same color. 

"It certainly is. The mesh used to trail behind her. Her slave had to chase after her to keep things from falling off her. Probably why the design was changed. Pretty isn't always practical." Elizabeth said it with wisdom in her voice. Yumi felt her lip twitch, but managed to keep her face straight. 

"I have forgotten to say that I'm also quite fond of your dress. Though the colors have never suited me." Pink had never been Yumi's color. Even as a child, black had suited her quite well. Elizabeth however wore pink well. Her dress was layered in two different shades of the color, made to accentuate Elizabeth's innocence more than her attractiveness, since she was still too young to be married. As such, her figure was hidden within the layers and the neckline rode high towards her collar bone. Even some of the beads that were woven into her hair were a similar light pink. Elizabeth grinned at her, twirling to show the dress off upon hearing the compliment. 

"I know, I know, I'm the picture of adorableness!" she giggled.

"I'd agree to that, Dear Heiress." a voice spoke from behind Yumi. Yumi recognizing the voice, turned to find Odd grinning at her, wearing robes so lightly purple they were nearly pink themselves. "You're both looking lovely this evening." the girls both rolled their eyes but accepted the compliment. 

"Where have you been all night? I haven't seen you since you handed me my gift." Yumi turned to him, eyebrows raised in a subtle gesture of irritation and questioning. 

"I was having fun," he responded rather snottily, "You should try it. Dance around, see a few more people. It is your party, Yumi. Also, I  _know_  you haven't forgotten to respond to my party invitation, because there is no way you've forgotten my birthday, considering how close it is to yours?" Yumi rolled her eyes, and she heard a snort behind her that told her Elizabeth was fairly amused by Odd's antics.

"Certainly not. Why the response hasn't gone through, I don't know, but I am coming to your party, just as I've been to Jeremy's party, and will go to Elizabeth's party. You know, just the same as we've been doing since we were toddlers." she looked at him pointedly. Odd just gave her a charming smile that she knew better than to believe. 

"If you insist, my dear lady." she scowled at him, but knew it was useless to try get him to desist with the teasing.

"Sissi, do you think you know what you're going to do for your fifteenth birthday party?" Odd asked, turning to Elizabeth. Despite herself, Elizabeth colored a little, but brightened up at the idea of being able to talk it through with someone infinitely more interested than Yumi. 

"I'm going to go dance," she told the two, not surprised when they barely acknowledged her. They got like that, sometimes. She made her way to the dance floor considering the options before she heard a soft voice beside her. 

"May I have this dance, birthday girl?" She turned to face intense blue eyes, matched by the robes worn and the beads woven into dirty blond hair. 

"Of course, Jeremy. Who am I to deny an old friend?" she laughed, pulling him along. The dance was one of the slower ones, usually reserved for couples but since at least half of those in attendance weren't of an age for courting it was considered little more than practice, and none of the dances were taken seriously. Yumi and Jeremy soon found themselves twirling carefully around the dance floor. "So any reason why you wished to have this dance?" she asked. "Not that I don't appreciate it, of course."

"People tend to go into their own little worlds when they dance, so it is an excellent place for undisturbed conversation." he smiled at her, looking faintly amused. "I figured if I didn't get to you first, I might not get to you at all. I haven't been very successful in my attempts before. Though I suppose I simply have bad timing."

"You wished to speak to me?" she asked. Yumi couldn't keep the concern out of her voice. 

"Nothing is wrong, Yumi. I simply wanted to give you my birthday wishes. Fifteen. An interesting year, they say. You know," he continued, and with the knowledge of long acquaintance Yumi resigned herself to an educational lecture, "the reason it used to be fifteen that was such a big deal party wise was because it was actually a coming out party. In some societies it was sixteen, but most found the imprint age of fifteen to be sufficient. It wasn't until the 50s that they started pushing back the age of legal marriage. The tradition of having such a party on the fifteenth birthday likely only still exists because imprinting still exists."

"That's very interesting. Was there a reason you wished to share?" Yumi asked once she was sure that Jeremy had decided that no, he wasn't going to keep going. He was quiet for a moment longer, the song winding down around them. 

"I wanted to remind you that I'm here for you. You're one of my oldest and best friends Yumi. You're the first of us to reach fifteen. I know we haven't really needed each other for anything serious before, so I wanted to make sure you knew... if you need someone to talk to, you know I'm still around." the music was reaching its end. Jeremy looked at Yumi earnestly, and Yumi found herself feeling even more affectionate towards her old friend. Still, something about his statements unsettled her, like her mother's had. Despite this, she smiled, thanked him, and released him with the end of the song. He responded in kind and disappeared into the crowd. She tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that had taken over her stomach when another boy offered to dance with her, accepting his offer and losing herself in the dances.

By the time she reached the end of the party, she was exhausted, happy, and mildly frustrated. She still had no idea who her imprinted mate was, but her party had been one of the best she’d ever attended, and was certainly the best that had ever been hosted in her parent’s home. The party lasted well into the evening and Yumi was well and truly tired by the time the last of the guests began to leave. Her parents sent her upstairs before the last of them left, since it seemed like they might loiter should she stay. Yumi barely acknowledged as she felt a familiar presence behind her, quiet, calm and unobtrusive. She did acknowledge that presence when, in her exhausted state, she tripped over her own two feet. Strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her from hitting the floor (though she suspected her feet would be more than a bit sore from the stretch this angle created) and the imprint in her mind reacted- a feeling of concern mixed with some relief and surprise- and she frantically pushed herself back up using the wall and the help of the other.

“Who saw?” she asked, looking warily around the hallway.

“No one saw, maîtresse. We’re alone. Are you injured?” more concern was coming through the imprint. But that didn’t make sense, Yumi thought, because there was no one there other than-

Oh.

Oh no.

No.

Concern was turning into worry, edging towards fear. “Maîtresse? Is something the matter? Do you need something? Maîtresse?” Yumi turned to look into Ulrich’s concerned gaze, her mind blank in utter horror.


	2. Questioning the Status Quo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long! I had the second chapter halfway done for ages but I kept switching tenses and had to edit a hell of a lot. It should be mostly good but forgive me if a line or two comes off wrong. Don't forget either- this isn't the lighter fare of my other stories in this series. It's gonna get darker from here, and it ain't gonna be very fluffy. You have been warned.

Yumi had managed to collect herself enough to have Ulrich help her back to her room. She didn’t need the imprint to tell her that Ulrich was still concerned. Where normally he’d have attempted to ensure that Yumi sat by her vanity while he removed the decorative beads in her hair, this time he suggested they do so on the bed, helping Yumi change into her night clothes first, when normally they did it the other way around.

Yumi stared at the wall in front of her as Ulrich worked, his fingers moving quickly and efficiently despite his worry. Her mind was still stuck on the fact that her soulmate was her slave. She hadn’t even considered, not even for a moment, that her soulmate wouldn’t be a noble like herself. Her life was so normal- there was no other word for it, she thought- that it simply hadn’t even occurred to her that this wouldn’t follow suit. Abruptly, she realized her mother must have meant something like this when she’d mentioned that she might not be able to marry her imprinted mate.

Oh, and just thinking of that brought up so many questions... Did other people imprint on slaves? Was that why no one talked about it? Had she done something wrong? Were the gods punishing her? Could she possibly fall in love and ignore the slave who was always at her side? What about when Ulrich turned fifteen? Would he- did slaves even get imprints? Yumi didn’t know. As questions begin to pile up, Ulrich finished preparing her for bed and exhaustion quickly took its toll.

“Do you need anything else Maîtresse?” Ulrich asked. She shook her head as she lay on the bed, watched as he moved around her room to his own bed. She closed her eyes, and sleep came much faster than she expected.  

She woke to worry this time. “Ulrich?” she asked the room, eyes still closed.

“Maîtresse?” his response was instantaneous, and didn’t reflect any of the emotions she felt from him. She shifted on her mattress, turned towards the bed that Ulrich had slept on since she’d received him and finally opened her eyes. He sat dressed on his own bed, clearly waiting for her to wake.

“What’s the time?” she asked.

“Nearly ten,” he replied. She grunted, unsurprised. After such a party she was allowed to sleep in. Then she groaned. She had lessons, dammit. She could feel Ulrich’s amusement. “Your tutor isn’t due until one, Maîtresse. You have plenty of time to eat, bathe, and complete the homework you haven’t finished.” His amusement only increased when she glared balefully at his pleasant, nearly blank expression. Yumi closed her eyes and sighed, unwilling to get up.

“Come here,” she ordered and he obeyed, coming to the side of her bed and sitting on it when she hit the empty spot beside her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulled herself up and placed her head on the side of his chest. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin brown robes that he was wearing, and she began thinking about Ulrich as an individual, for once. She realized that she no longer had any emotions towards Ulrich, not any sort that would speak of long acquaintance. She had expectations, habits that included Ulrich, preference towards him, but no real emotional attachment.

It wasn’t always that way. They used to be something like friends, back when Yumi was just coming into society and only just learning what it was like to really have responsibilities. When had that changed? When had she stopped asking Ulrich and started ordering him? She couldn’t remember. There were a lot of things about Ulrich she couldn’t remember.

“What did you do last night?” Yumi asked him. She startled both herself and him with the question, but did find herself interested in the answer.

“Maîtresse?”

“Tell me what you did. Who you talked to,” she insisted. There was a beat of confused silence.

“Well, once the party started, I helped organize your gift piles according to importance of gifter. I imagine your parents have already started going through them. Then I headed to the kitchens to ensure there was no need of my help. I ran into William along the way, and we talked while we headed to the kitchens. Once we were in the kitchens we helped Aelita and Milly-”

“Who’s Milly?” Yumi interrupted, feeling like she should know that name.

“She’s Heiress Tamiya’s slave, the one with the red hair.”

“Oh right,” Yumi said, barely remembering the girl. She waved at Ulrich to continue.

“We worked on some of the food that was being sent up, and we talked some. Then we helped clean up once the food stopped being served, I said goodbye and headed upstairs to aid you,” Ulrich finished. Confusion still came through his mind in waves.

“What did you talk about?” Yumi asked. She felt the apprehension and embarrassment through the bond, though Ulrich did not hesitate in his answer.

“What we’d been doing lately, a little gossip on our maîtres... nothing you would really have a problem disclosing, of course.” He added in a rush, a little bit of fear slipping in. She shrugged her shoulders, and the fear dissipated, though caution stayed.

“I’m curious, anything very interesting? What was the main topic?” she asked, pulling back some to look up at Ulrich’s face. Ulrich was looking down at her, his face carefully blank, something she realized he’d been doing for years now. She got a wave of feeling... he didn’t want to talk about this.

“We spoke of one of the girls who had gotten pregnant.” He admitted, clearly (at least according to the imprint) reluctant. “She wasn’t given permission to pursue such a relationship, so the slaves were talking about whether or not she’d be allowed to keep the child- or even birth it- as well as what was going to happen to her and her sweetheart.”

“Who is their maître?” Yumi asked, something inside of her feeling unsettled. Ulrich showed his first outward sign of any negative emotion as irritation pulsed over him, his lips thinning as he pressed them together.

“Noble Xavier,” he said. Yumi pulled a face.

“Oh he’s awful,” Yumi said with feeling. She knew of him, had been forced to spend time with him as she had many other nobles. Ulrich nodded.

“Yes, we do not think the outlook for either is good for them. Especially not her. She was his personal slave, after all.” Pity and a touch of disgust were in Ulrich now. She wondered why.

“Would you ever want a relationship with one of the other slaves?” she asked him. It wasn’t a question she’d ever considered, even though she rationally knew that Ulrich spent time with and had relationships with other slaves, she had never contemplated that he’d fall in love with one. He laughed at the notion.

“Even if I did, you would never allow such a thing,” he said. His amusement angered and shamed her.

“I would too,” she argued, cheeks flushing. He leaned his face very close to hers, and her eyes met his.

“Liar,” he breathed. It’s a bold move, and she could feel a bit of rebellious spirit urging him on. The closeness- closer than they’d been in years- fueled the bits of rebellion in her, as well. She lunged forward and took his mouth with hers. The first kiss was nothing more than a touch of lips, but as she pushed him backwards, repositioned, she took the second kiss deeper. He didn’t fight her, let her do what she wanted, and she tried to ignore his feelings for a moment to focus on the kiss. It wasn’t passionate, but exploratory. She’d never kissed someone before, so it was an entirely new thing for her.

It wasn’t unpleasant, and the way he held her as she moved forward was both supportive and comfortable- he was making it easier for her, she realized- she pushed herself up more, brought him with her, and brought in her tongue to try and figure out what that was all about. He responded easily, and it occured to her that he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. That opened up the floodgates on the feelings she was trying not to notice and she realized that he’d been expecting this, that this to him was no more than a duty to be performed, and something in her stomach sunk. She broke off the kiss abruptly, turned away from his wet lips and wiped the saliva off her mouth using the sleeve of her night clothes.

She felt his concern, but she was surprised when she felt his arms go around her waist. Testing the waters, cautious, but he was still being rather daring. It must have been the way she was acting, she thought, that spurned this change in behavior. She didn’t remove his arms and instead leaned back into them. Ulrich was warm and soft, but still his hold was firm and his body solid. His concern for her was genuine, though she could not tell where it originated from. The imprint was strong, but too much of what she felt from him she couldn’t identify. She didn’t know him well enough, hadn’t taken the time to learn.

There were questions she wanted to ask, things she needed to know, but she didn’t think she could bare to hear any of the answers. So instead she got up, letting his arms fall from around her and said “I need to get ready.”

“Of course Maîtresse,” his voice was calm, as though he was completely unaffected by their actions. “I should think that pancakes would be a good breakfast for the day, would you agree?” she nodded, not looking at him, already taking off her clothes as she headed towards the bathroom. They got her ready in silence, but she looked at her slave with new, assessing eyes. He saw this, knew she was looking, though perhaps not for what. Regardless, he smiled at her when their eyes made contact, and she felt a little more lost each time he did. She was fairly certain that wasn’t a good thing.

Finishing her homework was hell if only because she could barely concentrate. She was tempted to try and get out of lessons for the day but knew it would cause more issues down the line. She got her homework completed with barely ten minutes to spare, and managed to answer all of her tutor’s questions and listen to what she was taught if only through sheer force of will. She was relieved when her tutor finally took their leave, giving her the chance to contemplate her next course of action. What she would normally do and what she thought she should do were for once very different.

A part of her wanted to observe Ulrich more, and another part of her that wanted to be as far away from him as was possible. She knew Ulrich was in the kitchens, which wasn’t all that unusual since most of the slaves collected there when they weren’t working. Yumi had been told it was so they could talk to each other when she was younger. Thinking about it, Yumi hadn’t been to the kitchens since she was twelve... no, perhaps younger than even that.

Normally, when Yumi’s tutor was finished with her, Yumi would head upstairs to the parlor to hang out with whoever happened to be there, and do her homework. She decided after much debate that maybe, it was time for a change. So she rushed through finishing her homework in the library and then made her way to the kitchens, which she knew would be busy with preparation for dinner. She was careful as she approached, not wanting cause an issue or... well, she didn’t know what. How would they react, seeing her here again? She didn’t know.

She had just arrived at one of the kitchen entrances in time to see Hiroki’s slave _smiling and laughing_. It occurred to Yumi that she had never heard the girl act so openly, never seen her expression so... well, expressive. Yumi then realized she wasn’t even sure of the girl’s name. Hiroki had changed it, she believed, but she didn’t even remember that name. She didn’t think she’d ever even said it. The girl spotted her, and after a flicker of surprise, her expression instantly closed off into the blank expression that Yumi was used to seeing. The change unnerved Yumi, but she forced herself to ignore the feeling.

“Sister of my Maître, do you require something?” she asked, her voice polite and emotionless. It was jarring, but Yumi tried her best to pretend that there was no reason for her to be bothered. Partially because she wasn’t entirely sure why she _was_ bothered. She walked forward, many of the other slaves looking over in surprise.

“I merely realized it has been a long time since I have been in the kitchens. Perhaps I could help with the evening meal?” her voice was level, though it was difficult to let it remain so when she had clearly surprised many of the slaves who had known her since she had been born. The head cook looked especially unsettled for but a moment before she nodded.

“You can help out Ulrich and Kotomi,” she said, gesturing to the two. Both Ulrich and Kotomi were hesitant about her arrival. She joined them trying to pretend there was nothing unusual going on, taking position between Ulrich and Kotomi to help them with some of the peeling they’re doing. The kitchen was quieter than she remembered, and even Ulrich and Kotomi were not talking as they must have been before.

“What’s your name Kotomi?” Yumi asked after the quiet got to be too much. Puzzled, Kotomi looked up, and before she could say what Yumi didn’t doubt was on her mind, she added, “I mean, before Hiroki gave you Kotomi.” The noises of pots and pans had become muted, the general chatter that had been spoken quietly before was now gone. The near silence was even more unnerving, but Yumi wanted to know. A part of her felt driven to _do_ something, to _know_ something.

“Maureen, my lady,” she finally responded, “my parents named me Maureen.”

“Were you... upset to have to change your name? To have to answer to the name Hiroki gave you?” Yumi knew she was pushing too far even as she asked, but she wanted to know. Something was shifting and the world wasn’t in the place she always thought it was. She didn’t need the unidentifiable rush of emotions from Ulrich or the suddenly far too loud kitchen as people begin to try and talk over her to know that she was crossing into something considered forbidden. She didn’t care. She was fighting a war inside herself focused on the things she thought she knew and the things she was figuring out now, and she wanted an answer. Something about this answer was important, monumental, and Yumi was teetering on the edge of something she couldn’t identify. She would not step back and forget, because no matter what it might do to her, no matter how life changing the revelation may be, she couldn’t let herself forget. It felt contrary to her very soul, and she wasn’t willing to do it.

Kotomi- _Maureen_ –didn’t answer, and things settled down around them. Yumi still felt like she was on the edge of something, not helped by the anxiety that Ulrich was feeling pouring back into her. They finished their part of the preparations, and Yumi ended up getting shooed out of the kitchens. As she left, she felt a hand on her arm, turned to meet the only green eyed person in the entire house.

“Yes,” Maureen said firmly, with conviction. Yumi didn’t need her to elaborate. Maureen let her go and Yumi nearly staggered out of the kitchen. She stumbled into one of the storage rooms, and she started to shake. Tears were starting to build up, and Yumi didn’t know why. She’d expected that answer, had known in her heart that it was the one she was going to get, but she hadn’t been prepared.

A profound sense of loss encompassed her. She felt the world she knew start to fall away. Things she thought she knew were proving to be untrue and she knew she was still ignorant of so much more. She felt so foolish, so stupid.

She deserved this pain.

She’d figure out why later.


	3. A Necessary Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas (if you celebrate) and happy holidays/end of year/whatever you celebrate that I don't want to misspell if you don't. I'm sorry I've been pretty much MIA for a couple months. Unfortunately college this semester really took it out of me! I had absolutely no time to write, but fortunately, once finals were over I was able to get some writing done, in the hopes of giving you guys a holiday treat. I'm hoping that I'll be able to give you guys more updates over my winter break, but I'm also going to be working, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter, and know that another (of this piece) is coming very soon- I've nearly finished it already, in fact.

Ulrich was the one to find her not two minutes later, undoubtedly to ensure she was alright after how she was acting in the kitchen. He pulled her into his lap, holding her close as she burrowed into his chest. He made no effort to comfort her with words but she didn't need him to. She was comforted by his presence, by his steadiness and concern.

"Say my name," it was a quiet request, murmured against the skin of his neck and she wasn't sure Ulrich would actually do it. He'd been trained not to ever say her name without some suffix, a denotation of her place in society or her place compared to his. His arms briefly clutched her closer, almost on reflex. She felt his head shift and his breath on the top of her ear before she heard his voice.

"Yumi," and it was the first time she'd ever heard him say her name alone. Simply. Just her name and nothing else. The sob caught in her throat.

"Again," she begged.

"Yumi," he said again, his voice a little louder this time, and he ran his hands over her back in a comforting gesture. She could feel the vibration in his throat as her name left his mouth and she wanted to burrow herself there, to never leave the comfort of that moment, of Ulrich saying her name as he held her.

But that was it, wasn't it? It'd always been about her. When it came to her and Ulrich, she always got what she wanted because he was her slave and she was his Maîtresse. Was that right? Was that wrong? She didn't know. Only yesterday she'd have said yes, but doubt had invaded her consciousness and she began to think things she'd never thought before. It'd never been about Ulrich. It'd never been about what he felt, or what he wanted. Something in her snapped at these thoughts, and she stood abruptly, nearly nailing herself on the underside of Ulrich's chin. Steadying herself, she dragged Ulrich up too.

"How much longer until dinner?" she demanded, and she didn't need the imprint to tell her how Ulrich felt. His expression of utter befuddlement was clear enough.

"At least another 45 minutes, Maîtresse."

"Good," she nodded in satisfaction before she took Ulrich back to her room, using the elevators usually reserved for staff. She didn't want to be interrupted, and she didn't want to wait. Ulrich was only keeping up with her through years of experience as she hadn't let go of his wrist since they left the store room. She pulled him into her room, closed and locked the door. She turned toward Ulrich and could already feel the change in his emotions- mainly expectation and acceptance -and she wanted to shake up his perception just as he had shaken up hers.

"Get on the bed," she told him before she pulled the curtains that hung in her room to order, blocking the view from the vanity mirror, the bathroom, and the door. She'd never really understood the reason behind the subtle purple and pink curtains, too heavy to quite see through but too light to be a bother, but she was grateful for them now.

When she turned to see Ulrich on the bed as ordered, she suppressed a smile. Now wasn't the time. She sat close to him, kissed him until she was sure he was focused only on that. Then she pushed his robe up, up, until it was at mid chest height. She broke off the kiss and pulled it over his head, and she looked into his eyes. He looked, she thought, a bit like she would expect someone who wanted sex would look. His eyes were somewhat lidded, his lips a little red, and his expression was nothing but open. He felt open emotionally, but he didn't feel the way she expected him to feel. Maybe she could change that.

She placed her hand on him through his underwear, felt him harden a bit and leaned forward to kiss him again. He moved his hand to take off her clothes but she batted it out of the way. She didn't want to be touched, she wanted to touch. She wanted to feel him feel good, to make him feel good and know he really felt it. Her kisses were needy, pulling his focus in and that was all she wanted. She kissed him as she touched him, as she finally pulled out his penis from his underwear and touched it, bare skin to bare skin. He gave a gasp, a little shudder of surprise. She felt the pleasure at the touch and it pleased her, drove her further.

There was no indication from him, not in any of the ways she could communicate with him, that he wanted her to stop. So she didn't. She pushed further, taking off his underwear and leaving him naked before her. She touched him with both hands, one on his shaft and another on his balls, and she was careful. She didn't really know what she was doing but she didn't let that stop her, didn't let anything take this chance away. She used his movements and the feelings she was getting to tell her where to put her hands, where to move. Her lips landed on his neck and she began to kiss there, her body reacted to her actions but she refused to pay attention.

Ulrich's breathing was uneven, and once his mouth was free, he began to moan. His hips began to jerk, so she focused both hands on his shaft, and she could feel that he was close. She pulled back, looked at his face as she felt him throb in her hands.

"Come," she ordered, not even realizing she'd done so. He did come, and she could see and feel the pleasure he felt, if only as an echo. She felt herself heat up even more, but ignored it. She pulled back fully to look at him. His stomach had strips of white semen on it, sliding down just a bit towards his softening cock. He definitely looked... erotic, she decided.

"Maîtresse," he said, panting a bit. He grabbed his discarded underwear and wiped the semen off of himself before he reached toward her. She took his hand.

"Yumi," she said again, her voice a little desperate.

"Yumi," he pulled her against him, and she grasped at him.

"It felt good, didn't it? You liked it?" she asked him, voice quavering. He ran a hand through her hair.

"Yes maî-Yumi, I did like it. It did feel good," he rocked her a little bit, "are you alright? You're acting strangely." She didn't say anything for a few moments.

"Do you think I'm a good person Ulrich?" she asked. She could feel the bafflement coming off him full force.

"Yes maîtresse, I do. I think you're a wonderful person," he said. He believed it- she could feel the truth of it inside of him- he believed she was a good person, a wonderful person even. The tears came again, and he tried to soothe her as she fought to bring back her calm. When she'd finally managed to get herself under even a minor semblance of control, she pushed herself out of Ulrich's arms.

"Tell my parents that I don't feel well and wish to rest," she told him. He obeyed, but not before he'd tucked her into the bed and grabbed himself a new pair of underwear and his fallen robe. He brushed the hair off of her forehead with fondness heavily tempered by worry, and closed the door softly behind him. She only staved off sleep in the hopes he'd return before then.

Her parents came to see her before he did, cooing over her and asking if they should call for a doctor. Yumi assured them she only needed to rest, that she thought she'd probably just overworked herself, and her parents let her be. When Ulrich did return, it was with a small tray and a covered bowl. He placed it down on the bedside table, careful to do so quietly.

"I'm awake," she told him. He sat gently on the bed next to her.

"If you can, you should have something to eat. I had Cyn make you some soup," he said. He brushed a hand down the side of her face, a light touch. "Do you want me to remove your beads? I imagine they're getting in the way."

"Wha- oh, yes. Yes, that's probably for the best," but before he could reach to take them out, she did so herself.

"Maîtresse," he said in alarm, "there's no need-" Yumi ignored him, attempting to take out the beads herself. She pulled and tugged at the beads- clear colored since she'd stayed in- but only ended up tangling her hair.

"Stop! Stop! Please, you'll ruin your hair!" Ulrich's hands were on hers now as he tried to stop her from tangling her hair further.

"Do you tie these things in?" Yumi asked incredulously, allowing him to pull her hands away and replace them with his own.

"There's a technique," he said delicately, his hands moving slowly but surely over the tangled parts of her hair. "If you'd gone much further, I'd be untangling this for hours."

"That's mildly terrifying," she told him. His lip quirked, but it was the imprint that really showed his amusement. She closed her eyes as he worked, allowed herself to stop thinking, to only feel. She enjoyed the closeness, stayed quiet as he worked the beads out of her hair with careful, precise movements. He could be very elegant, she thought, in that precise way. She could admit to herself now that she could easily see his attractiveness. He was very appealing to the eyes, not that she'd spent a lot of time looking before. He radiated warmth, both physically and mentally. His eyes were a beautiful hazel much different from the darker brown that dominated her family tree. She liked it better than the lighter colored eyes fairly common among nobles, she realized.

"That's all of them, Maîtresse," he said, putting the beads on the night table, careful not to let any roll off. He then removed the bowl's covering so that the steam could begin to flow outward again. He gently removed the tray from the table, balancing it on his own legs as Yumi reached for the bowl herself. Ulrich stopped her. "In your state," he scolded mildly, "you're more likely to drop the spoon and burn yourself."

"I'm not a child," she murmured, but when he brought the soup spoon half-filled to her lips, she obediently leaned forward to drink from it. She closed her eyes as the simple broth slipped into her stomach and soothed away a few ragged edges. She knew Ulrich wouldn't let her take the soup herself unless ordered to, if only because he was so worried. It was both pleasing and annoying, so she let it be. She made him stop when they were about halfway through the bowl's contents.

"Enough," she said, pushing the next spoonful away. Emotional turmoil had made her tired, and she wanted to sleep. Yumi watched as Ulrich got up, clearing the night table of beads and bowl covering, returning the beads to her vanity and placing the bowl just outside her doorway. She got up slowly, walking towards her dresser where she was quickly met by Ulrich. He helped her undress and redress in silence, guiding her to the bed. She looked at him for a moment, just looked at him.

"Stay with me," she said. It slipped out, and she was as surprised by it as he.

"I'm not going anywhere," Ulrich responded firmly. She didn't doubt him. He almost never left her when she was sick, unless he had to for some reason. He was permitted to use her bathroom, especially since he slept in her room.

"No, I mean..." Yumi trailed off for a minute, hesitation brought on by prejudice and habit, "I mean sleep here, with me."

Ulrich looked at her then, studied her face, then smiled, nodded.

"Of course Maîtresse, if that's what you want," he said calmly. She watched as he went to his side of the room, undressed quickly and put on his nightwear. He slipped into the bed with her once he'd turned off all the lights. He pulled the covers around the both of them.

"Good night, Ulrich," she said. She didn't touch him, but simply felt his presence.

"Good night-"

"Yumi."

"Good night, Yumi," he lay beside her, watching over her, she had no doubt. She found herself falling asleep faster than she thought she would.

When she woke, Yumi found herself tangled with Ulrich. She was surprised, since normally he'd have gotten up before her. As she shifted, she saw him looking at her.

"Good morning, are you feeling better?" he asked her. She shrugged, then cuddled closer to his warm body. He carefully ran his hand through her hair, eliciting a pleased moan. He laughed just a bit as she tried to force herself more firmly into his chest. She swatted at him playfully.

"How'd you sleep, Ulrich?" she asked after she'd woken herself up a bit more.

"You slept well Maîtresse, so I did too," he said. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

The imprint bond pulsed pleasantly between them, and she allowed herself to enjoy the peace that it provided her with. Ulrich couldn't feel it yet- or at least, she sure didn't think so- so she was the only one who felt the increased emotion between them from the contact. Probably. She groaned, feeling the peace leaving her as she remembered all the unanswered questions she still needed to address. She sighed.

"Have the staff ready a car once breakfast is done. I need to head out today."


	4. A Friend in Need

Jeremy was enjoying Aelita’s company, happily curled with her on one of the family room couches, they read the book Jeremy was holding. The two enjoyed reading together sometimes, and it was an especially lethargic feeling day. The last thing Jeremy expected was for the door to suddenly burst open as Yumi stormed in with a cry of “I need to talk to you!”

Jeremy dropped his book, which was only saved by Aelita’s quick reflexes. Aelita, while equally surprised, was more used to needing to move on a moment’s notice and swiftly untangled herself from Jeremy and slipped off the couch, sticking a bookmark in the book she’d caught before placing it on the glass coffee table in front of the couch. Yumi ignored them both, pacing in front of the window at the other end of the room.

“Hello Yumi, nice to see you too, no I’m not busy or anything, just come right in and start talking,” Jeremy said with irritation. Yumi turned to meet him with a level glare. Jeremy sighed, righting himself on the couch as he gave Aelita a look that had her nodding before she slipped out, leaving the two alone. “Where’s Ulrich, then?”

“Kitchen,” Yumi said, waving it off.

“Alright, so what’s the matter?” Jeremy said, not wishing to waste time. Yumi sighed, before finally plopping down on the other side of the small two-seater. Now that he finally got a look at her, he could see that she really was upset.

“You said I could talk to you, at my party. You said – you said you were here for me. I-” Yumi ran a hand through her hair, light blue beads clanking together at the movement. Her face twisted and Jeremy felt his irritation draining away. He reached over and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I meant it,” he said calmly. “You are my friend Yumi, and I want to be here for you if you’ll let me. What’s wrong, Yumi?”

“Why did you say that? Did you know- did you think...?” Yumi didn’t seem to know how to ask.

“You imprinted, didn’t you? And it didn’t end up as you expected,” Jeremy said, pulling back and shifting himself on the couch. She couldn’t mask her shock, and Jeremy gave her a sad smile. “It was always a possibility, Yumi, though one I knew you would not find the need to contemplate.”

“I imprinted on...” she pressed a hand to her lips and looked up at Jeremy, clearly struggling with herself. Her eyes were wet with suppressed tears, she took a deep, shuddering breath before she finally finished, “Ulrich.”

“Ah,” Jeremy said. That was all he said, though he continued to eye her sympathetically. Yumi sighed, rubbing her hands over her face vigorously and ruining the light layer of makeup that Ulrich had applied that morning. Pulling her blush tinted hands away from her face and handing her his handkerchief, he put his hand on her shoulder again, gave a light rub. She accepted the comfort for a moment while she wiped her hands, then shrugged him off as she handed him the handkerchief.

“I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t believe it. What am I supposed to do with this? I can’t marry him, can’t tell anyone. If anyone found out – I don’t even want to think about it,” she pulled out her own handkerchief and wiped her eyes, which were still tearing up. “A slave, I imprinted on a slave!”

“Yumi, I know that this has come as a bit of a shock, but Ulrich is a person too. I know it is difficult to see it that way, if only because we are raised to ignore our slaves, to think they are less than us, but it is true. Ulrich is a person, as is every slave.” Jeremy settled back on the other side of the couch, dropping the handkerchief on the table next to the couch after a moment’s debate. He didn’t actually want to put it back in his pocket. Yumi looked at him then, and there was despair in her eyes.

“When did I stop seeing him as one?” she asked him, her voice quiet. “When did he stop being a person to me, Jeremy?”

“When you were about twelve,” he said. She gave him a look of surprise, but he only gave a tired smile. “I never stopped seeing Aelita as a person. It made it easier to see slaves as people over all, I think. Though that is debatable.” Jeremy pushed himself up. “This is a conversation better had with tea, I think,” he said, walking swiftly to the intercom in the wall and asking for some. When he returned to his place, Yumi no longer looked at him.

“Will Ulrich imprint on me?” she asked.

“Technically speaking, he already has, but yes. You should tell him before then,” he advised. Yumi shot him an angry look.

“Tell him what? That he and I are forever bound and that he can never have me regardless, that he is forever in my possession, mind as well as body, even if I sell him? That he will either watch me marry another or never see me again?” she asked, pushing herself up and beginning to pace again. “That regardless of how either of us feels, there will be no happy ending, no fairytale, no running away and living as we wish? That I cannot leave and in order to be by my side he must watch me take another, he can never have me the way a spouse has another?”

“Stop this at once Yumi!” Jeremy commanded, as he rarely did. It was friendship and respect that kept her from snapping back at him for ordering her around. When he spoke again, his voice was testy, “Ulrich already knows all of those things Yumi, other than that he is imprinted with you, on you. Don’t insult him by pretending he is too stupid to know. Ulrich is a person, Yumi. You may have forgotten that, but you should relearn it fast. You would not think Odd, Elizabeth, or I to be so foolish, so do not pretend to think that he is.”

At that moment, Aelita and Ulrich entered with tea and sandwiches, and the two fell silent. Yumi waited, looking out the window as the two put trays down on the coffee table. She could practically feel Ulrich’s worried gaze, but she forced herself to ignore it. Jeremy sent a brief look in Yumi’s direction, but knowing she was unlikely to say anything, turned to look at the worried Aelita and Ulrich.

“That will be all, you two. Both of you, consider yourselves free for the afternoon. I know you haven’t had much of a chance to spend time together,” Jeremy gave them a pleasant ‘host’ smile. He knew Ulrich would be confused by anything more genuine.

“Yes, the two of you should head to the town. I’ve some things that need to be picked up at the shops, I’m sure that Jeremy is the same,” Yumi cast him a brief glance, her eyes now forcefully blank.

“That is, of course, an option. Just do be safe if you do so,” he addressed Ulrich and Aelita. It was clear Ulrich wanted to stay, but he would not disobey an order. The two left and Jeremy picked up the teapot and served the tea himself.

“Come sit down, Yumi,” he said, a bit more kindly. Yumi sighed, and sat again. She picked up her tea if only for something to do with her hands. “I’m sorry that I’ve been so... snappish with you, but it has been very difficult to watch people treat slaves the way they do. I understand the mentality, the reasoning, but I cannot stand to see it,” he said. Jeremy took a sip from his teacup. Yumi watched him for a moment, copied him with little thought. The tea was warm and just sweet enough. Trust Jeremy, she thought, and she did.

“I suppose I cannot blame you. I don’t know what to do, Jeremy. I simply don’t know how to handle this,” Yumi let out a breath with something akin to relief. It was nice to admit to it.

“What do you want, Yumi?” he asked.

“I don’t know. A part of me wants to go back to before I knew any of this,” she admitted. Closing her eyes she rubbed one hand on the side of her head, ignoring her beads as they hit her cheek. “I can’t do that though. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be right to ignore what I’ve found. I can’t do it. I just don’t know where to go from here.”

“Start simple,” Jeremy suggested. He smiled when Yumi’s eyes popped open to look at him again. “You can’t change the way you think in a day Yumi. It takes time, and work. You need to unlearn all those prejudices against slaves, you have to remind yourself what the proper way to treat them is, you have to accept what’s between you and Ulrich, regardless of what you come to decide. There are a lot of things you need to do, that you can do.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Of course. For instance, you asked me if Ulrich would imprint on you, even though you know how imprinting works. You have to remember that slaves are people in order to remember that an imprint would work the same. Slaves imprint all the time.”

“Really?” Yumi asked. She couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Of course. Imprints are a worldwide phenomenon. Though slaves rarely get anything close to a happy ending with their imprints. Your situation with Ulrich is one of many. Aelita was telling me about one of the imprinted couples just the other day. The girl got pregnant and their imprint was exposed, though few would believe the words of a slave on such things.”

“Is that so? Ulrich mentioned that, but he didn’t mention anything about them being imprinted,” Yumi said, taking a bite out of one of the sandwiches without looking (turkey, she discovered).

“He may not have known, particularly. Like I said, few take the word of a slave, even other slaves at times. Aelita said that she ‘read between the lines’ to figure it out. Ulrich may not have done so or purposely ignored the information. You’d have to ask him to know for sure,” Jeremy shrugged, taking another drink from his cup as he did so. He poured in more tea and began to doctor it to his liking.

“I don’t know. He thinks I’m acting strange,” Yumi sighed, taking another sip of her own half-filled tea to wash down the rest of the sandwich. Jeremy raised an eyebrow.

“Yumi, I hate to break this to you,” he said as he stirred his next cup of tea, “but you are acting strange. As little as four days ago we never would have had this conversation. To Ulrich, it probably looks like you’re going through some sort of a depression.”

“Maybe I am,” she said ruefully. She sighed as she put her teacup down, then she slumped against the couch as she rarely did (her parents would have a fit if they saw). “It’s just, I feel like I deserve to be punished. Like I did something wrong. Yet from everything I know, I haven’t done anything wrong at all. Yet I also realize I have done something wrong. It’s very difficult to put together really, as my sensibilities and my mind are at war.”

“Do you regret it?” Jeremy asked. Yumi looked at him, despair on her face.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

In the meantime, Ulrich and Aelita were talking in hushed tones as they weaved themselves through the kitchens and towards the back door of the Belpois Estate.

“I’m just so worried! Ma Maîtresse has never been so upset before. I don’t understand,” Ulrich said as he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it and unintentionally getting some cooking grease in it. The mask he wore in front of the nobles had long since disappeared. There was no reason to keep it on around his sister.

“I know, I know,” Aelita soothed, grabbing one of the many napkins she kept on hand from her robe pocket, quickly dipping it under the running water of a kitchen faucet and wiping the grease out of Ulrich’s hair and off his hand. It slowed them down, but Ulrich was too preoccupied being worried to try and do it himself.

“I don’t know what to do! She’s been very unpredictable these past few days. Maybe it’s the stress of getting older, though that never bothered her before...” Ulrich pushed the backdoor open, absentmindedly holding it open for Aelita and shutting it carefully behind her.

“Well, what has she been doing?” Aelita asked. The two walked quickly down the path out of the estate, not bothering to look around at all the various tools and clothing that surrounded the slave’s entrance.

“She’s been asking weird questions about us. What we do, what we talk about, how we feel...” he trailed off, a blush coloring his cheeks. He grabbed the small gate and opened it for her so he would not need to look Aelita in the eyes as he spoke. “She also... touched me. She didn’t take me, but she touched me. She asked me if I thought she was a good person.”

“Well, her interest in you isn’t entirely unexpected, but I am surprised she has gained such an interest in us. When did she really start acting differently, do you know?” Aelita asked as they began trudging down the road to town. She wasn’t surprised that Heiress Yumi had started to use Ulrich in that way. It was fairly usual, actually, for nobles to use slaves in such a way, personal slaves within a certain age range especially, since they were always around. What did worry her was the Heiress’s interest in slaves. There were several reasons Aelita could think of for such a sudden change, and they didn’t necessarily bode well for anyone.

“Oui, I noticed it after the party. She was so tired she tripped, and she started panicking, asking if anyone had seen her. When I mentioned that it was only the two of us, she just sort of froze,” Ulrich seemed to be genuinely puzzled by this, but Aelita felt a frown pull itself onto her face. “Since then, she’s been very... upset. Confused. I do not know what to make of this.”

“That is troubling,” Aelita agreed, but she refrained from saying more on the subject. She allowed the conversation to reach a lull, contemplating how she should broach addressing this issue. Ulrich would certainly not allow his maîtresse to be in pain of any kind so long as he could stop it, but Aelita was unsure that what he may attempt to do would not make the situation worse, rather than better.

Aelita knew, as all did, that fifteen was the age of imprinting. The most likely thing to cause such a sudden change in mindset would be an imprint with someone of much lower status. Given the line of questioning, Aelita was more than willing to lean in the direction of a slave. She decided against informing Ulrich that Heiress Yumi could have imprinted on a slave- not because she didn’t think it possible, but because if she hadn’t, it would not do for Ulrich to even contemplate it. It was not her business- not really- save her connection through her brother. She had of course known the Heiress for quite a long time, but she understood it was not her place to put forth such questions. It wasn’t really Ulrich’s either, but their maîtres had always been more lax about such things than others.

“Fifteen is the age of imprinting. It is possible that she has imprinted on someone unexpected,” Aelita finally said. They were quickly approaching the town, greatly limiting that which could be said.

“I suppose that is certainly possible,” Ulrich agreed. He did not seem particularly pleased, but she expected no less.

“It is different, for them, than it is for us,” she reminded him. “Such a thing is considerably more coveted in the higher circles.”

“I’m aware,” he said, trying and failing not to get irritated. “They are fairytales, even in those circles. I have seen very few nobles to be so lucky.”

“You know as well as I do that they talk of such things with excitement,” she scolded her brother. “They are not taught as we are. You _know_ that,” she pressed, causing him to look away, some of the irritation giving way to shame.

“Oui, Oui, I’m sorry, I forget. It just surprises me, the idea is so... foreign and foolish.” He repeated the words he barely remembered hearing from long ago. Aelita pursed her lips and nodded. She too remembered the words, the lessons and the punishments. They stuck far easier than one would think.

“Regardless,” Aelita said, trying to steer Ulrich into a more practical mindset, “your Maîtresse needs your support more than ever. I’m sure Mon Maître will be able to aid her. She is as much sister to him as I am to you.”

To Aelita’s relief, Ulrich sent her a smile, and she could see some of the tension recede from his shoulders.

“You are right, as always. I am sure she will be feeling better once we return.”

“As am I. Now, what was it we needed to get?”


End file.
